Saying Good-bye to John Henry  3/9/75 - 10/8/07

It is never easy to say good-bye.  It is always too early, even when staring into the face of  inevitability.

Our annual journey to Lexington began from Massachusetts this year.  There is  no where in the United States that does not provide a convenient "detour" to Kentucky.  Each year our visit is preceded by the toughest and longest two weeks of the year while we conduct business at whatever location is dictated by the national specialty of the Doberman Pinscher Club of America.  My lifelong association with this breed of dog is an obvious reflection of the structure, elegance, and athleticism of the equine.  Nonetheless, our trip from Massachusetts this year was with particular purpose, as we knew it may be our last visit with John Henry.

Reservations in Lexington didn't begin until Tuesday, October 9.  We  left Massachusetts on the morning of the 7th and planned a stop to visit friends along the way.  That would surely leave plenty of time for the usual delays, in addition to a drive that would not be pressed for time.  Our visit went as planned, travel was smooth without delays from construction or traffic jams (despite driving through the New York area), and the forecast rain and fog took its own detour around us.  We stopped for the night on Sunday somewhat farther west than we have originally anticipated.  The next morning, up and on the way again, we were already half of the way to our destination in the Bluegrass.

Monday, October 8, was again without delays.  While we normally encounter afternoon traffic jams in the Cincinnati area, no tie ups were to be found.  We drove the longer route around the belt way and yet again avoided delays.  Arriving in Lexington in the late afternoon, we had planned to check in a full day early, relax, and go to visit John Henry Tuesday morning.  For some reason, although it was near closing time at the Horse Park, we decided to stop in before going to the hotel.  The gates were already open, as people exited from their visit, and we walked directly to the Hall of Champions barn.

Approaching the barn, we noticed that a number of employees were coming from that area.  Just inside the entrance of the barn, Cathy Roby, Hall of Champions director and primary caretaker, was standing at the open stall door holding John in front of his large cooling fan.  A small gathering of people were present, among them current and former caretakers, John's breeder, and his former groom.  The atmosphere was quiet and respectful.  It was apparent that everyone present had one uniting priority, and that was their love of the great champion.  He was being attended with loving strokes and soft whispers.  The many get well cards adorned his stall door.  We watched as he enjoyed a chocolate doughnut.

At times like this it is a delicate balance, not to be intrusive or disrespectful.  I leaned back against Cigar's stall (who appeared to be a bit put off, although somewhat resigned, that he was not currently the center of attention) to get some photos of John Henry.  Despite his age and health, when John heard the low click of the camera, he pricked his ears, looking straight at me with clear eyes.  It is a look that I will never forget.  It was not a pose or a question, but as direct of a  statement as I have ever known.  He was clearly saying that he knew who he was, and he was, as ever, in control.

We learned then, that this day would be his last.  It was not a decision made with haste or with any priority other than John Henry.  It is both a tough and tender decision to assure the absolute best quality of  life for an animal friend, and it is our responsibility.  John's special friends had been notified and were present to say good-bye.  We were fortunate, through what ever turn of fate, to have been granted that last good-bye.  Not wanting to further intrude on the privacy, we said our good-byes to him and somberly left John Henry for the last time.

The news of John's passing was not delayed.  Just over an hour after we left him, John Henry was gone.  Local stations in Lexington featured his passing on the 11:00 news.  A great champion was gone, but his memory and legend lives on in Kentucky and the entirety of the Thoroughbred world.

Tuesday morning posed a daunting decision.  Would we, could we, return to a Horse Park without John Henry?  In the words of Cathy, it would not be the same without him.  We opted for Keeneland and the morning work outs, delaying the inevitable visit for a few more hours.  It was noon before we arrived at the Hall of Champions barn.  This time, as the barn came within sight, John Henry's grave waited at the front corner to his paddock.  It was already embraced by pots of fresh white chrysanthemums.  Single red roses were tucked into two of the pots.  Inside the barn, his stall door was closed, bouquets were already accumulating, and all was quiet for a "regular day" at Kentucky Horse Park.  Visitors came and went, some unaware of the significance of the passing of the grand old champion.  Many were all too aware.  On this day, we met people who had previously only been names to us.  All came together because of John Henry.  I was amazed and touched by the courage of the staff.  How brave they were to continue on through their own grief, repeatedly faced with explanations and comforts to visitors who only knew John Henry for a brief moment.  The staff of Kentucky Horse Park is without comparison.

As the day continued on, we attended the afternoon presentation of the horses in the Hall of Champions.  Da Hoss, Gypsy Supreme, Cigar, and Western Dreamer had their special moments.  At the end of the presentation, Cathy spoke of John and the video footage showing highlights of his career was played.  It was difficult to watch and  listen.  We remained seated long after the crowd had moved on, attempting to regain a small bit of composure.  The flower deliveries continued to arrive.  The crew was busy installing sod on his grave site and sprinklers were placed to hasten the rooting.  A wreath was placed on his stall door and John's shoes were tied into it.  Photos of the champion were assembled at this stall.  A tribute was arranged in a case in the museum lobby.  With the sod now in place, a beautiful arrangement was placed at the center of his grave and the chrysanthemums surrounded it.  Some one placed a carrot on his grave.  As the day ended, a large banner "Remembering A Legend, John Henry, 1975 -2007" was attached to the paddock fence in tribute to John.  We signed with wishes and farewells.

I now think back on all of the visits with John Henry that brought me the good fortune of a multitude of memories.  I have been visiting the Horse Park since since 1980 and was privileged to see John on many occasions since his retirement and arrival in the mid 80's.  Despite what some term as his unremarkable pedigree, the happy accident of genetics was working overtime on the day that he was foaled.  With his indomitable spirit and ability, John Henry became a credit to the Thoroughbred industry.  It is our greatest hope that his likes will walk this way again.

Life on John Henry's terms.  He did it all.  Happy trails to you, John, until we meet again.

~FlyingFilly

You may enjoy two wonderful articles on John Henry:

What Made John Henry Run, by Mary Kay Kinnish

Commentary: Old Friend, by Amy Zimmerman